This charming man
by Fukuro-chan
Summary: 1987, East London. The country's false facade is crumbling and Arthur Kirkland is bored. He has seen this happen before of course and is fed up. I guess when you have lived for 300 years everything becomes tedious. Oh? You are wondering how mr Kirkland is so old? Well I guess he'll have to show you, unless that nosy American beats you to it...


The scent of tobacco smoke lingered in the air, mingling with the ever present dust in the flat.

::::I am the son and the heir::::

He hummed along to the tune softly. This song perfectly captured the feeling that surrounded London these days. Despair. The government was in turmoil, thousands were unemployed and Britain was collapsing.

What a pity.

He sat down on his couch and let the cigarette fumes fill his nostrils as he took a deep, sobering drag.

Empty bottles lay around him. A sliver of evening sunlight caught them and a green glow was cast around the room. It illuminated his face as he smiled slowly.

Arthur Kirkland was getting ready to go out.

It was around 9:00pm as he buttoned up his dark trench coat and pulled on some gloves. He stubbed his cigarette out on the ash tray already full of burnt out butts.

Unlocking the door and stepping onto the balcony, he took in a deep breath of fresh air. He could smell them.

"Mmm", he licked his lower lip in anticipation. He was feeling rather hungry. Thank god the city was crawling with the scum.

:::

He passed out of the estate and onto the pavement outside the high rise flats.

An empty fish and chips paper whipped past, carried away on the wind. He gazed at the dark gray sky and sighed. Sundays were shit.

He raised one gloved hand to sweep his hair from his face. He could just make out a couple walking up the adjacent street.

They would have to do.

He followed them. He the wolf, they the livestock. If Arthur was honest with himself he thought he was doing them a favour. Better it all end now, besides they had nothing to live for in this miserable country. They would benefit him too, he thought, a worthy cause.

He knew this area well and he recognised they were coming up to an alley.

Bloody brilliant.

He was about to tap the man on the shoulder when he saw a dark mass appear from his left

Shit.

A gang of around five youths came in from a different road. The couple had noticed and started moving fast, unlocking the door of a house a few doors away.

That was his dinner.

"Oi fag!"

A voice jeered from the group of boys and chorus of yells went up around them.

Arthur stood still on the pavement and began walking, ignoring the shouts of the gang.

"Are you listening to me you little piece of crap?"

The voice had a strange accent, one he couldn't place. A pair of hands grabbed him from behind and shoved him to the ground.

He was turned to face a pair of cold brown, almost crimson eyes.

"Awww", the boy jeered his dirty white hair falling in his grubby face, he pulled Arthur's close to his, grinning. "Are we okay pretty boy? Lost your way?"

He landed a kick in Arthur's stomach.

That albino twat. He was going to pay. The whole gang were in fits of laughter.

He rose, almost levitated so he was standing, facing the ring leader.

"You wanna fight pixie boy?", the leader sneered, "You are so fucking dead"

"Oh gentlemen," Arthur laughed gazing around at the thugs with glittering eyes, "I don't think I'm the one who should be worried about dying tonight, you see, I have this annoying habit of being quite a bugger to kill. Some call me immortal even, a grand title do you not agree?"

By this time the rough boy was unnerved. Who hell did this guy think he was? He looked skinny enough, elegant, like one of those upper class snobs. He could easily take this 'Immortal'. Stupid piece of shit, his kind never cared about the poverty of others.

"'Immortal'?," He scoffed, "Who the hell do you think you are? Bloody god? You won't be in a minute when I kick your arse in-"

He trailed off as he looked into 'pretty boy''s eyes.

They weren't pretty anymore.

"Wait a fuc-," but he never finished his sentence.

"You know, for a second I was considering letting this one slide," Arthur said nonchalantly, his hand around the boys throat. "But I am ever so thirsty- and wait a moment, where are my manners? My apologies, I forgot to ask, what might be your name good sir?"

"G-g," the youth spluttered, "G-Gilbert!" His face was now as red as his eyes.

"Well, Gilbert my young friend, you have the great honour of being the first meal of the season,"

Oh how he loved this part...

Gilbert's eyes widened in shock as a pair of fangs slid down in Arthur's mouth.

"Now hold still..."

A scream ripped from the white haired boys mouth. Did he have to make quite as much of a racket?

"Gil!"

"What the-"

"Someone help!"

"You're a maniac!"

"Get fuck away from him!"

Oh look, the others were having a go at being loud too. How cute.

Arthur dropped the limp body of Gilbert to the ground.

They ran. The cowards.

"What just happened here?"

A new voice. Ah, crap.

"Y'know England is freakin' weird dude. Everyone here is super grumpy, dunno why though. Hey is that blood or...?"

Double crap. An American.

:::

At first, Alfred was excited about going to England. All the ruins, history and music. The food was awful though, his mom had warned. Good thing he had a whole suitcase full of good ol' American fare.

Well okay it was candy. Don't judge.

As soon as Al arrived in the UK he realised things were different. No green, rolling countryside or men with moustaches and top hats. Just hundreds of tower blocks, gray in color, and many miserable brits.

Who apparently didn't being like told 'Dude, cheerup!' by passing strangers. One even gave him the finger. Rude.

It was so different from home. Some parts were great but he got the over riding sense of unease among the people.

And now one was standing with his back to him, covered in...well, blood.

"Hellooooo?"

The man slowly turned to face him.

Sweet Jesus. He was beautiful. Despite being covered in dripping red liquid. Alfred thought beautiful was the right word, not hot or handsome. The guy looked so delicate, like some kind of elf or something. Piercing green eyes fixed on his and Al shivered from the glare fairy man gave him.

"Dude? Were you like, eating him?"

"No I was not 'like eating him' you twat, learn proper English. I'm er- part of a theater group. We do live roleplays in the street. It's halloween so we're doing Bram Stoker's 'Dracula'. Now if you'll excuse me...," The young man tried to push past Alfred, dragging the body(?) along with him.

"So that's face paint and, is that a real guy?"

"No, now get out of my way," he hissed.

Alfred was stunned. Theater group? As he watched him drag the body Al decided to help. The guy was too little to keep it up right. Besides, dude was interesting.

:::

"You know, you kinda look like a vampire too. You're so pale do, you, like, ever go out?"

"My complexion doesn't trouble me and therefore shouldn't trouble you."

"Do you want me to help you with that, er, prop?"

"I can handle it myself thank you very much."

"Aww, c'mon."

"Stop following me."

"No," the annoying yank lifted the 'body' by it's legs.

"Oh for the sake of God, the Queen and holy shit, let go."

"Nopety nope nope"

"You sound like a 2 year old."

"Your not the only person who has called me that recently."

"Are you still there?" Arthur sighed inwardly. Then an idea hit him. He knew it was greedy but he was hungry. Oh what the hell. You only live for eternity.

"Umm-," Arthur turned shyly, doing his best puppy impression, "You know I could use a bit of help, If that's okay?"

:::

They had lugged the 'body' all the way to Arthur's flat. Effort, Alfred thought, but this was the only way he could learn more about Arthur. That was his name apparently, it sounded freaking posh.

He didn't know why but the Brit had suddenly become kind, but smiling made his features look 10 times better.

Jesus, he was adorable.

"We're here Al"

Ew.

His house was definitely not adorable.

"So this is where you, um- live?"

"Yes, got a problem?"

"No"

Lil' bit.

Arthur unlocked the door and Alfred stepped inside.

"I can't see."

"Turn on the bloody light then."

It was like a shit storm. Bottles everywhere. Old newspapers littered the floor and the smell of earl gray mixed with cig smoke. Nice.

"Put the bod- I mean prop over by the fridge."

"Yes sir."

Unbeknown to Alfred, Arthur was smiling widely behind him. He much preferred slow kills. They were more...fun. Especially when the victim was attractive. Which Alfred, undeniably, was. His eyes were fantastic...but he was an annoying prick so he would be joy to finish off.

He turned on his old record player. He loved vinyl. The sound was beautiful. He let his favourite 'The Smiths' song play.

::::And you go home, and you. cry cause you want to die::::

Strangely appropriate. Soon enough it would be time.

:::

Meep. So yeah, this is my first fanfiction and omg, I actually don't know. I really didn't know what to write at first, the hetalia fandom is so huge! But in the end I decided to do something different. Vampires are cool right? Arthur fits the mould perfectly. I also decided to base this in a different time period because why the hell not.

The song in this chapter is 'How soon is now?' by The Smiths. You need to check them out. Like, now.

Warning: There will be many song references in this fic. You have been warned.

Please like, favourite and follow this fic and Iwillloveyouforever.

Reviews are amazing and it would mean so much if you gave your feedback!

Lots of love and many glomps,

Fukuro-chan xox


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